


Family Pictures

by Nevanna



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5645965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor is making pictures that scare him, and he doesn't understand why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after 2.03, "Belle Chose," and requires canon knowledge up to and including that episode.

Victor can see the tiny smile on Sierra’s face whenever she brushes swirls of color across the paper, turning them into flowers or birds or fish. Today, she’s painting big, bright petals filled with stripes and polka dots. He likes that Sierra can think of these things, of flowers that look like that.

When a piece of her hair falls down in front of her eyes, he wonders if it’s as soft as it looks, and whether she would like him to push it back behind her ear. That thought makes something in his head open like a door, or like the screens above their sleeping pods, but he isn’t sure he’ll like what’s on the other side.

“Victor, you look sad,” Sierra says. She waves at the empty seat next to hers. “Would you like to paint something? That always makes me feel better.”

“I think that would be nice,” Victor agrees, and sits down beside her. He picks up the brush and dips it into the cup of water, as he’s seen her do. He isn’t sure what kind of picture he wants to make until a face is staring back at him from the page. 

He looks over at Sierra again. 

(She was wrong. She might be happy today, but sometimes she paints things that make her sad, or scared.)

“Who are they?” she asks after a little while, peering over at his picture.

Victor swirls the brush in the water again, and chooses a different color, painting a stripe of green grass at the bottom of his paper. He realizes that the face on the paper has turned into four girls who are sitting in chairs or standing on the grass. “They’re a family,” he says. 

Sierra points. “What is she holding?” 

“It’s like a hammer,” Victor tells her, even though he isn’t sure if he knew that before he spoke. “They’re playing a game.”

“Are they _your_ family?”

“People in a family make each other happy, and protect each other, and help each other to be their best.” He smiles at Sierra. “I think that mine is here.”

“Those four are somebody else’s family,” says a voice from behind them. Echo is leaning over his shoulder. 

Victor knows the names even though she doesn’t say them. “Mother,” he whispers. “Big Sis. Little Sis. Aunt Sheila.” He’s shaking, like when he gets out of the swimming pool and is suddenly cold. The longer he stares at the painting, the more he thinks that he hears a funny noise, a _bad_ noise. Somebody is screaming.

(He knows what Sierra’s screams sound like. Everybody thought that he’d done something to hurt her.)

He wants to help her, but he doesn’t want to _look_ , but he wants to…

Echo darts out a hand and tips the glass so that cloudy water spills over the picture, washing the four figures into a blur of gray.

The noise in Victor’s head stops.

One of the nice caretakers walks over. She asks them what’s wrong. “I made a mess,” Echo says. “It was an accident.” She stares at him hard. “I’m sorry, Victor.”

The caretaker rushes away to find a towel.

“It’s all right.” Victor realizes that Sierra has put her hand on his arm. It feels safe and good. “I’m glad that family is gone.”

“Where did they go?” Sierra asks.

“Someone made them play that game, but they didn’t want to,” Echo says. “Now they don’t have to play it anymore.” She’s still looking at his face like it’s a question that she’s trying to answer. “And neither do we.”


End file.
